


Enough

by ariapassionflower01



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Blow Jobs in a Car, Corporal Punishment, Dom/sub, M/M, S&M, Sex Toys, Spanking, Twincest, not for billshido fans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1385455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariapassionflower01/pseuds/ariapassionflower01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom has had enough of Bushido coming onto his brother, had enough of Bill not doing anything about it. There's a point where it just crosses the line, and Bill needs to be shown who he really belongs to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> I think I might've screwed up which year TH won which Comet and when they gave Bushido the award, and when he gave them theirs:/ Just overlook it for the sake of the story please!

Bill could tell that Tom was pissed. His brother's tells were showing through as plain as day and Bill didn't have to ask to know what had Tom in such outrage.

The afterparty of the 2008 Comet awards was in full swing but Bill's good spirits had quickly deteriorated the moment he noticed Tom's brooding, angry face. They stood next to the bar and Bill could feel his stomach twisting itself in knots. He had a drink in his hand but it was hardly touched. Tom sat next to him, quite the opposite, as he slammed back shots. His normally light, brown eyes were almost black with anger, and his head was lowered, brows drawn.

“Tom,” Bill said, quietly, trying to dismiss the tremble from his voice. He hated it when Tom was angry, hated it even more knowing that he was the one who had pissed him off. He reached out and touched Tom's arm lightly. Tom eyes jerked over to Bill's and Bill could see the angry set of his full lips.

“What?” He snapped.

Bill swallowed, his stomach taking an even deeper plunge. “I'm sorry.” He said at last, his voice weak.

“Don't apologize. I know you don't mean it.” Tom replied. Bill drew back, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes. It hurt that Tom had rejected his apology and then went on to question the veracity of his penitence.

“It was for the cameras.” Bill added, but it was a weak argument, although somewhat true. “I dislike him just as much as you.” Bill went on, trying to draw some kind of positive reaction out of Tom.

“Is that so?” Tom sneered, turning to Bill again with an upraised brow.

“Yes.” Bill insisted, setting his drink down on the counter now.

“Maybe you liked it when he finally got his paws on you.” Tom accused in a low voice, his eyes narrowed, nostrils flared.

“No!” Bill cried, and tried to lower his voice. He glanced about to notice if anyone had seen their dispute. “No.” He insisted more quietly. “I didn't. You know I didn't.”

“Bill!” The sound of a heavily accented voice drew the twins attention and Tom spun around on his stool as they both laid eyes on the very topic of their conversation – Anis Mohammad Youssef Ferchichi. Otherwise known as Bushido.

The big man was walking straight towards them, smiling widely. Bill wanted to take a step back, but the bar was behind him. His skin crawled at the very proximity and he swallowed hard. He drew himself up, reaching deep down to find a sense of politeness.

“Bushido.” He forced a smile. “Congratulations on your award.”

“I'd congratulate you on giving it to me, but I don't want to seem too vain.” Bushido replied and Bill could all but sense Tom wanting to surge off the seat and take him out.

“Of course not.” Bill chuckled, but it sounded strained.

“The best part of the night, I dare say.” Bushido went on and Bill could feel his dark eyes on him, raking up and down his body. Bill wanted to turn away and hide himself, feeling naked beneath the man's intrusive gaze.

“I thought the best part of the night would be for the band who won the most awards.” Tom spoke up, drawing Bushido's attention. Bill immediately felt the tension crackle between them and he gripped the bar behind him, his knuckles white.

“I mean, Best Male Vocalist is good,” Tom went on, his dark gaze boring into Bushido, “But I think Tokio Hotel ruled the night... Don't you think?” Tom asked, “As such an ardent fan as yourself.”

Bushido's eyes flickered and Bill found himself holding his breath. “Don't get too full of yourself, Kaulitz.” Bushido advised at last.

“Of course not.” Tom's smile was cold. “I would never do such a thing.” The implication was clear in his voice – that it was Bushido who was full of himself.

“You have a nice night, boys.” Bushido said, beginning to excuse himself.

“And next time,” Tom said, actually standing from his stool, “A handshake will do.”

Bushido's strained face turned into a glare and Bill inched closer to Tom, fitting himself behind his brother's shoulder. He had never been afraid of Bushido before, only wary, but now he could all but feel the hate radiating from the man towards Tom and it made his chest tighten in terror.

“Remember who you're talking to, boy.” Bushido snarled, losing his cool. “I have ten more years of experience under my belt-”  
“What you have under your belt doesn't interest my brother.” Tom spat, laying out the situation in broad daylight. “Fellatio or intercourse, whatever you had in mind.” Tom added, causing Bushido's face to turn a bright red. He appeared to be ready to explode before he turned on his heel and brushed through the crowd, his shoulders drawn tensely as he disappeared.

“Tom,” Bill whispered in shock.

“What?” Tom spun around and Bill could tell he was even more pissed than before. “He _wants_ you, Bill.”

“I know.” Bill whispered, blinking back unwanted tears.

“You didn't have to go up there and act like you're friends. You didn't have to fucking hug him and let him touch you.” Tom went on, already wound up for a fight after his confrontation with Bushido.

“What was I supposed to do?” Bill asked. “He put his arms around me and it was on national television. It was harmless!”

“Harmless my fucking ass.” Tom spat. “Come on.” He grabbed Bill's arm.

“Where are we going?”  
“Back to the hotel.” Tom turned dark eyes on him and the implication of the single word made Bill's stomach clench harshly.

“Tom, please, don't do this out of anger.” Bill whispered, pleadingly, resisting Tom's hold.

“Do what?” Tom pushed his face close to Bill's. “Say it.”

Bill swallowed hard, his heart palpitating fearfully in his chest. “Punish me.” He whispered at last, his cheeks burning hotly beneath his gaze.

“Let's go.” Tom ordered, hauling him away from the bar. Bill followed, trying to arrange himself to appear natural. He felt as if every single person were looking at him, knowing exactly what was going on. He kept his head down and followed as quickly as possible to escape the sudden claustrophobic atmosphere.

The cool night air reached Bill's heated flesh as the reached the parking lot. Tom still did not let go of his arm. Instead, he yanked him along, his strong fingers digging into Bill's thin arm.

“Tom, please,” Bill began again as they reached Tom's Escalade

Tom halted, pulling Bill around to face him. “I have had it with this topic.” He snapped. “I am done watching him come on to you and watching you take it. You are mine, Bill. Mine. And no one else's. Definitely not that fucking bastard's. He will never lay his hands on you again.” He was breathing hard, his nostrils flared, his entire face tense.

“Please, Tom,” Bill whispered, real tears welling up in his eyes, ones that he couldn't swallow back in the next second. “Please, I don't want him! I hate him just as much as you!”

“Then why don't you act like it?” Tom questioned, giving him a shake.

“Because!” Bill returned, a tear sliding down his cheek. He couldn't come up with a better answer, couldn't string together the words to make Tom understand.

“I'm done with this.” Tom repeated and yanked the car door open. “Get in.” Bill stumbled into the car and pulled the door closed. He covered his face with his hands, trying to get ahold of his emotions. He breathed in deeply, wiping at the tears on his cheeks as Tom rounded the Escalade and got inside. He started the engine with a forceful twist of the key and pushed the gearshift into drive. They squealed out of the parking lot and Tom directed the truck towards home.

There was a tense moment of silence before Tom ordered in a dark, low voice, “Get down here.”

“What?” Bill asked, turning wide eyes on Tom. Tom's eyes were on the road, dark and angry.

“I said get the fuck down here.” Tom jabbed a finger at his lap and Bill felt his insides twist, almost painfully.

“Tom, please,” He whispered, “Please, don't...”

“Get your fucking face down here now, Bill.” Tom snapped, turning his eyes on Bill for a single second.

Bill slowly unstrapped his seat belt and slid the floor between the seats. Tom released his own strap and shifted back in the seat as opened his pants with one hand. He reached over and grabbed Bill by the back of the neck, and pulling him down to his crotch.

“Take it out and suck it.” Tom ordered, his eyes steadily on the road, one hand wrapped around the wheel, the other Bill's hair.

Bill tried to hold back tears as he lifted his hand and pulled Tom out of his boxers. He was halfway erect already and the fact made Bill shudder deep inside. He held him in his hand and lowered his mouth slowly to Tom's cock. Tom's hand gripped his hair harder and pushed his face down closer to his cock. Bill took him in his mouth, choking back emotion as Tom's fingers twisted in his hair to force him to take it all down.

He could hear Tom breathing deep and steady and he gripped Tom's leg, his long, dark nails biting into flesh through the jean pants.

Tom's cock was rapidly growing hard in his mouth, pressing up thicker against his tongue. Tom guided his mouth over him in steady pumps and Bill weakly let him control the encounter. They weren't even back to the hotel and Tom was already asserting his dominance, trying to show Bill exactly who he belonged to. Bill knew that the rest of the evening was going to go on like this and his stomach felt sick at the prospect. He had known from the moment he had begun the speech about Bushido's award that something was going to go terribly awry and now he was headed for punishment when he was sure that the blame was all Bushido's.

Tom grunted above him and Bill tried to back off. He didn't want Tom wrecking his Escalade just because he wanted to teach Bill a lesson.

“No.” Tom ordered, forcing Bill back down. “Take it.” Bill almost choked as Tom pushed his hips up and seated his cock all the way in Bill's mouth to the back of his throat. He moaned around Tom's dick, feeling tears spring to his eyes once more. He breathed in sharply through his nose, trying to get a lungful of air.

“You're going to take it.” Tom went on. “You're gonna take it and you're going to remember who you belong to.”

Bill wanted to cry out that he did remember, that he had never forgotten, but his speech was completely hindered.

Tom's dragged Bill's mouth up and down his cock, speaking in low tones, “Feel that in your mouth, Bill? That's the only cock that you're ever going to suck. Not Bushido's. Not anyone's. Just this one.”

Bill sobbed around Tom's cock, a tear splashing out of his eye and landing on Tom's crumpled boxers. He couldn't even work his mouth on the erect column in his mouth. All he wanted to do was pull away and tell Tom the truth – that he loved him, and only him, that he hated Bushido, more than anything.

Bill could feel the Escalade racing faster now and he knew that they must be on the autobahn now. They would be to the hotel in a few minutes, but it was hardly a consolation. More of this awaited him and Bill loathed himself for ever being friendly to Bushido, if only out of common courtesy.

He breathed in through his nose rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that wanted to spring from his eyes and make his chest convulse. He had to stop crying. He hated it and Tom hated it. He couldn't stand it when Bill started crying in bed and Bill did not want to give Tom anymore reason to be angry with him.

Bill endured through the last few minutes of the ride before he felt the Escalade pull up sharply in the driveway. He pulled back and Tom let him before pulling his pants back together. Bill sat back on his heels between the seats, his eyes red, his mouth raw.

Tom threw the car door open and stepped out. He glanced back at Bill who still hadn't moved. “Get out of the truck.” He said, before an irritated look flickered over his features, “And stop crying.”

He slammed the door and marched ahead, expecting Bill to follow. Bill slowly climbed up onto the passengers seat and pushed the heavy door open. He slid down from the high seat of the truck and pushed the door closed before walking numbly after Tom.

Tom stormed ahead of him, shoving the hotel doors open and striding across the lobby. Bill followed, struggling to keep up with Tom's fast gait. When they reached the elevator, Tom held the doors open until Bill stepped inside. Tom let the door shut and turned to face Bill who was leaning up against the wall, arms folded tightly over himself, as he stared vacantly at the floor. He heard Tom heave a sigh, but he didn't say anything.

The ride up to their floor seemed immensely long and Bill felt like his heart was shoved up in his throat by the time they made it. Once more, he was slow to follow as Tom barged out into the hallway. He was already unlocking and pushing open the door of his room by the time Bill caught up. Tom stood aside and gestured for Bill to go in first. His eyes were dark and narrowed as Bill passed by and he slammed the door shut behind them. The sound rang out with finality and Bill nearly jumped, his body quaking with the implication of their solitude.

There was silence for a moment before Tom said, “Sit down on the bed.”

Bill went quickly, his weak legs buckling in relief as he sank to the mattress. He squeezed the edge of the mattress and watched Tom with large, fearful eyes.

Tom's jaw was set, his nostrils flared as he paced towards Bill. He stopped a few feet away from him and shook his head. “There are so many things I could do to you.” He said in a low tone. Bill swallowed hard, drawing back slightly. Tears throbbed in his eyes but he couldn't let them fall. He blinked quickly to clear his vision and tried to remain strong in the face of Tom's anger. Tom paced a few more feet before he cast Bill a withering gaze, “Get your clothes off.”  
Bill bit down hard on his lower lip, because as much as he had seen this coming, he didn't want to accept it. He moved slowly, stripping off the necklace, the shirt, the suspenders. He came to his pants, his fingers fumbling over the button and zipper. Tom stood across the room, his arms crossed in a menacing stance as he waited for Bill to be fully naked.

“S-sorry..” Bill choked before he finally managed to get the zipper down. He pushed the pants down his legs, taking off his shoes and socks before kicking them all into a pile on the floor. This left him in his boxers and he rose slowly from the bed and hooked his thumbs in the waistband. He pressed his lips together and tried not to look at Tom as he removed the last article of clothing. He felt cold and vulnerable under Tom's harsh gaze and a fresh wave of emotion assaulted him. He drew in a shuddering breath, pushing back the tide of panic that suddenly wanted to well up inside him.

“Lay back.” Tom ordered, remaining across the room.

Bill pushed himself slowly back on the bed, lying himself out flat on his back. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking quickly. He felt a tear slip out of his eye and slide down his temple. He reached up quickly to dash it away and bit his lower lip. He had to be strong for this, if only to make Tom understand that he was the only person Bill would ever have, the only one...

Tom turned at last, breaking out of his stance to go to his suitcase. Bill's stomach flipped over and he turned his face away. He didn't know what Tom had brought with him this time, but he knew the punishment tools were hidden somewhere in the luggage.

Tom returned to the bed and Bill glanced over to see him holding the restraints. They were black and leather, but had padding as not to hurt the wrists of the one wearing them. They were linked to chains that then locked on to the headboard or whatever was available.

“Arms up.” Tom ordered, leaning over Bill to attach the cuffs to his wrists. Bill lifted his arms weakly and let Tom put them on him. In a few seconds, he was locked to the bed and Tom was turning back again. Bill could feel his heart racing faster in his chest, his breaths coming in a faster, more shallow rhythm. He watched this time as Tom knelt next to the suitcase, and chose his tool. When he sauntered back to the bed, he was twirling the crop through his fingers like one of Gustav's drumsticks, but his face was dark, no hint of humor or even enjoyment in his features.

Bill felt a whine on his lips and he wanted to curl his legs up against himself, although he knew that offered little protection. Tom slid onto the bed and smacked one thigh with his hand, “Spread.”

Bill was slow to obey, his pale thighs parting slowly until at last, Tom gripped one knee and forced them open wider. A cry leapt from Bill's lips as his muscles strained, the ache going down to his groin.

When he looked back down, he noticed that Tom had brought not only the crop from the suitcase, but another tool that was much smaller, but no less torturous.

“You've got to be hard for this, baby.” Tom's voice was low as he stroked his thumb over the cock ring in his palm while his other hand gathered Bill's dick. He was soft at the moment, but as soon as Tom touched him, Bill felt a jolt of pleasure shock his lower regions. He knew that it was deceptive, that Tom was only going to punish him, but it was hard to fight when Tom's fingers were so skilled. His head went back against the pillow, his eyes squeezing shut as Tom began to stroke him, fostering the seed of desire into a fulling blooming flower of arousal. He was achingly hard within moments with Tom's hand riding up and down his shaft, his thumb rising up to stroke his head, teasing at the foreskin.

It was a shock when the cool, smooth ring slid down around him, capturing his base in and iron grip. Blood throbbed through him, achingly confined long after Bill knew the arousal would be gone.

Tom took up the crop, placing it beneath Bill's chin. “Look at me.” He said, his voice low, calm.

Bill opened his eyes, peering fearfully up at his brother. “I've had enough.” Tom stated. “This stops here.”  
Bill swallowed hard, nodding slowly. He wanted to respond, say something, _anything,_ to convince Tom, but he just pressed his lips together.

Tom drew the crop down, the smooth leather dragging over his neck and down his chest. Tom lifted the crop suddenly, smacking it back down against Bill's nipple. The flesh stung in response, drawing tight under the harsh contact of the leather. Bill clenched his teeth, turning his face away as Tom stroked the head of the crop down his flat, pale stomach. It smacked down again, just above his hip, turning the triple star red and throbbing. Bill's arms strained against the cuffs and a low whine exited his throat. Pain was already burning across his flesh and he knew where Tom was headed.

Tom dragged the crop down, placing it against the juncture of his thigh. It rested there, innocuously, for a moment and Bill braced himself, his muscles tight, eyes squeezed closed until the crop smacked him once more. His legs drew together this time, his body instinctively protecting the most vulnerable part of him. The crop slapped down, harder this time on his thigh, jerking a cry from his lips.

“Open them.” Tom commanded, his voice rising.

“Tom, please...” The plea spilled off his lips despite the fact that he knew he could not deter Tom once he was set on a path of punishment, and even as he spoke the words, his legs fell weakly apart. Tom did not even acknowledge that Bill had spoken as he laid the crop down against the underside of his trapped cock, dragging the smooth leather up and down in a torturous prelude before he delivered the next blow. Bill bucked up, his entire body screaming out as Tom laid out the fresh wound to his sensitive, throbbing length. His entire face was twisted in pain, tears rushing to his eyes before he could even think to push them away. He tried to hold back his cries as Tom pried his legs open once more. This time, he rose up, pressing his knee into Bill's thigh to pin it to the bed and holding his other leg in a strong grip. Bill yanked against the restraints, crying out as Tom doled out another beating with the crop, lower down now. He hardly gave Bill a moment's respite before the crop was smacking him again, striking him fully on the testicles. Bill shrieked, his body thrashing wildly beneath Tom's domineering grip.

Tom continued on, however, peppering Bill's thighs and genitals in red, stinging welts until Bill was a throbbing mess of pained nerve ending and tears. At last, Tom dropped the crop, but he didn't release Bill's legs. Instead, he took Bill's cock in a firm hand, working his palm over the punished flesh. Bill moaned and resisted, trying to pull his legs together.

“Tom, please,” He whimpered, “Please. .. it... it fucking hurts...”  
“I know, baby,” Tom murmured, sliding down further between Bill's legs. He dragged his thumb over a defined welt, leaned in to kiss it. Bill arched at the feeling of Tom's mouth against him, but he tossed his head against the pillow. No, no, he didn't want it. He didn't want anything Tom had to offer him tonight.

“No, no..” He moaned out the words.

“No?” Tom's head lifted from between his legs. His voice was sarcastically incredulous, one brow raised.

Bill bit his lower lip, shrinking down against the sheets. Tom, however, reached up and released the restraints from Bill's arms. Bill lowered his arms, rubbing at his wrists as he watched Tom warily.

“Go wash your face off.” Tom ordered, pointing towards the bathroom. “You've got makeup everywhere.”

Bill rose quickly from the bed, limping across the room as best he could with the cock ring still squeezing his cock and the pain singing through his groin. He made it to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. When he looked in the mirror, he could see that Tom was right. He examined his punished dick in the mirror, admitting at last that it was going to hurt for a while. He washed his face off, removing all the makeup and leaving his face naked and pale. He found some pain reliever and swallowed that down too. He managed to gather a few scattered pieces of his composure before turning back and opening the door.

He didn't know what he thought Tom was going to do next but the sight of him on the bed with paddle in hand, sent a jolt of denial straight through his chest. Every bit of dignity that he had scrapped together crashed down in a second at the thought of more pain. He sagged back against the bathroom doorframe, whimpering, “Tom, please... please, don't...”

“Get over here.” Tom ordered, not a hint of compassion lighting his dark brown eyes.

Bill dragged himself away from the wall, trying to swallow back tears as he made his way back to his bed of torture and punishment once more. When he was standing in front of Tom, Tom said in a low tone, “Obviously, you haven't learned your lesson if you're still saying no to me.”  
“Tom, please, wait,” Bill shook his head fast enough to fling dark strands of hair across his face. “I didn't mean it, I didn't, please...”

“Nice try, Billa.” Tom said, before jabbing a finger at his knee. “Over my knee. Now.”

Bill cast a tearful glance at Tom's leg, then at his face before he went slowly. The bed wasn't low enough for him kneel and it wasn't quite high enough for him to stand comfortably either and he ended up somewhere in between, his ass arched up for another round of punishment. Tom placed his forearm across Bill's back, his fingers gripping Bill's hair at his nape. Bill gripped the bedsheets hard, bracing himself as Tom placed the paddle against his buttocks. He rested it there for a moment before he tapped it slowly. Bill whined, pressing his forehead against the mattress. He knew Tom could hit _a lot_ harder than that, that he was _going_ to.

“The next time I touch you, all I better hear from you is 'yes, sir' and 'please, Tom'.” Tom said, tapping the paddle a bit faster.

Bill whined, rocking against Tom's leg now, “Yes, sir.” He whispered, wishing that Tom would just do it.

All the air rushed from his lungs at the sudden, sharp slice of pain cutting across his flesh. He had just been wishing that Tom would continue with punishment, but the first spanking always took him by surprise, hurting the most, shocking him the hardest. He arched over Tom's leg, his fingers scrabbling over the sheets. Tom's hand in his arm slammed him back down, his sharp elbow digging into Bill's back.

He cracked the paddle down again, striking the already throbbing flesh a second time. He didn't pause for another second before he began to bring the paddle down in quick, determined strikes. Each one sent Bill writhing over his knee, crying out as spankings multiplied. Tom seemed to hit fresh flesh each time despite the tiny size of Bill's ass and he counted softly, under his breath, breathing out each number almost too quietly to hear. But Bill heard it and knowing with a certainty the number of times that Tom was spanking him made his face twist in shocked pain. The fact that his cock was still fighting to stay hard, grinding up against Tom's leg with each jerk of his body made it that much more torturous.

By the time that Tom had surpassed the double digits, Bill was lying weakly over his leg, choked sobs clogging his throat. It felt like his entire body was stinging with pain by the time Tom dropped the paddle and dragged him upright. Bill dropped to his knees on the floor between Tom's thighs, sagging there brokenly. Tom grabbed his chin, pulling his flushed, tear-stained face up to his.

“Look at me.” He said, and this time, his tone was softer. Bill met Tom's eyes, staring up at his brother with his own wide, wet ones. Tom lifted his other hand dashed the tears off of Bill's cheeks, giving a low sigh. “Come here.” He said, pulling Bill of the floor. Bill pulled himself onto the bed, lying out on his back again as Tom leaned over him.

“No more of this, all right?” He said, wiping all the moisture off Bill's cheeks with a rough, calloused hand. Bill nodded, sniffing hard.

Tom nodded in return, his brows furrowed. He moved down between Bill's legs, and took the cock ring in his grasp. He began to work it off Bill's cock, removing it gently over the swollen, punished flesh. His hand moved away as he took it off but Bill reached down, grabbing his wrist. He guided Tom's hand back to his cock, looking down at Tom and whispering, “Please, Tom.”

Tom's eyes flashed. “You want me to fix this?” His voice was low and raspy in that way that sent shudders down Bill's spine.

He was done fighting Tom tonight. He was broken and exhausted and now he just wanted that familiar touch. Tom had bent his to the breaking point and now he wanted to fall apart completely.

“Yes, sir.” Bill replied, arching his hips up slightly towards Tom's hand.

Tom's hand moved of its own accord now, rubbing up and down slowly, urging the blood to refill Bill's dying erection. He bent down again, lowering his mouth, and this time, Bill leaned into the touch. He closed his eyes as Tom's warm, wet mouth surrounded his aching cock. His saliva felt like a soothing balm, the velvet of his tongue an angel's caress. Bill reached down and laced his fingers through several of Tom's dreadlocks, holding him closer as Tom's mouth began to bob over his cock. Bill rocked up against him, pushing his cock in and out in a slow, but steady rhythm. Tom sucked him with each entrance, taking him to the back of his throat before pushing him out to toy at the head. He drew his tongue under foreskin, licking at the tiny, leaking slit before pushing his mouth back down over it. It was almost torture, but this time it was sweet, so, so sweet. Bill moaned and panted, lost in the sensations of Tom's mouth going down on him. The orgasm welled achingly slow inside him, building to a throbbing climax. Tom's mouth escorted him to each level of pleasure, pushing him to the highest point. When Bill came, his thighs tightened down on either side of Tom's head, his back arching. Only a whine and moan accompanied the way his insides clenched down, twisting in the most wonderful way. His hips thrust up quickly, rolling against Tom's mouth in a frantic motion as ejaculated streams of cum onto Tom's tongue. Tom swallowed it all down, even that simple act made Bill's chest swell. It wasn't very often that Tom sucked him soft, and drank everything he had.

At last, Tom lifted his head. His own cheeks were high with color, his full lips wet and slick. He sat back, and began to remove his clothing quickly. Bill's limbs felt like jelly, but he managed to flop himself over onto his stomach, one knee pressed up against his chest.

“You want it like this?” Tom asked, huskily as he dropped the last of his clothing over the edge of the bed.

“Yes, please.” Bill whispered.

Tom didn't say anything more. He went to the suitcase again, but this time to grab the lube, and when he returned, Bill was pushing his butt up. Tom uncapped it before bringing slick fingers to Bill's quivering hole. He massaged the quaking flesh, his middle finger sliding in easily. Bill moaned, arching his back more sharply as Tom began to work his finger in and out. A second slipped in, pulling a moan from his lips. Tom's fingers speared deep, stroking over every inch of his inner walls until he found Bill's prostate. He drew his fingertips over the aching bud of flesh, rubbing until Bill gasped and rutted forward into the mattress.

“Tom, please...” He whimpered. “Want.. want you...”

“You want me to fuck you?” Tom asked.

“Yes,” Bill choked out. “Want your cock... want it... in me..”

Tom fingers worked into him at a faster pace before he forced a third inside. Bill's cry rose even louder as Tom finger fucked him hard enough to make his toes curl.

“Tom, please!” He begged, straining his neck to look over his shoulder at his twin. Their eyes met, dark and desirous, and Tom's fingers slowed until at last, he pulled them out.

“You want this cock?” He repeated as he grabbed the lube to slick himself up. Bill nodded quickly, pushing himself back towards Tom. “You're gonna get it.” Tom promised, grabbing Bill's hip and pulling him close. Bill felt the thick, wet head pushing between his buttocks and he moaned. In the next second, Tom was pushing forwards, penetrating him with his full, throbbing length. He slid in slowly at first, pushing back what was left of Bill's resistance. Bill moaned, his muscles contracting wildly for a second before opening to let Tom press all the way into him. Tom leaned over him, his dreadlocks brushing Bill's back, his heavy breaths gusting over his neck.

“Gonna fuck you so good.” He panted. “Better than anyone.”

“Yes, Tom...” Bill moaned, pushing back against Tom as he began to thrust. He pushed deep each time, seating his hips against Bill's ass as the conclusion of each thrust. His cock ground down deep into him, tunneling straight for his prostate.

Tom braced his hands on either side of Bill, using the leverage to bring their bodies together in a harder, faster rhythm. Bill could hardly move, but it didn't matter. Tom was doing him so good that he could already feel arousal welling up in his stomach again, his cock fighting to get hard again. It twitched weakly between his body and the bed, chafing against the sheets. He moaned, rolling his hips back against Tom and forward into the bed.

Tom angled his hips down, crowding the head of his cock up against Bill's prostate and grinding there. Bill moaned, his body flailing wildly. “Ahh, Tom, yes, ooooh!” He moaned.

“You like that, Billa?” Tom asked, pressing down into him again.

“I, ah, yes!” Bill cried out, breathless and so aroused.

“Gonna fuck you til you come.” Tom promised, his hips beginning to thrust again. Bill didn't doubt him for a second. He could feel his cock pressing up against his stomach now and he rutted harder into the bed, dwelling on the sensation of Tom's cock hammering his prostate. Soon, he was writhing all over again, so close to the edge, just waiting for Tom to push him over.

Behind him, Tom grunted with each thrust, rocking so hard into Bill had that bed began to protest, bed springs crying out. They screeched louder with each second until Tom sagged down over him, beginning to shudder. A low moan filled Bill's ear as Tom hips thrust quickly, almost desperately. Bill quivered, his own arousal burgeoning into climax. He came quickly, much more quickly than the first time, spilling out onto the sheets as Tom released into him. The hot flood of cum swelled inside him, overflowing to paint his buttocks and thighs.

Tom thrust into him until he was soft and spent before pulling out and collapsing next to Bill. Bill hugged his knee tighter to his chest and watched his brother's beautiful profile. At last, Tom looked over at him, lifting a hand to brush his knuckles over Bill's cheek.

“No more Bushido, okay?” He said.

“Bushido?” Bill said in return. “Who's Bushido?”  
Tom's eyes flickered with confusion for a second before a smile formed slowly on his lips. “I don't know.” He replied, turning on his side and sliding his hand behind Bill's head. He pulled him closer and placed against his lips. “Love you, Bibi.”

“Love you too, Tomi.”

They curled closer together on the bed, entwining as many limbs as possible before situating themselves in a exhausted, satisfied heap. They didn't speak again and before Bill knew it, Tom's eyes were closed, his breaths slow and heavy. Bill lifted a hand and traced his cheekbone, the shape of his lips. He didn't spare another thought for his aching body, his punished ass. It was all over and done now, and Tom's tools were put away. They wouldn't need to come out again because Bill was banishing that man from his thoughts.

Who was Bushido, anyways?

 


End file.
